


rich boy, poor boy

by musicspeakstoo



Series: boy you was battle born [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicspeakstoo/pseuds/musicspeakstoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason, Tim, the movies. Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rich boy, poor boy

**Author's Note:**

> well, hi! it's 12:30 am, so i'm getting better. it's not been that long, but i've been trying to post on a regular basis, though that's probably gonna change because school starts up again in a few weeks. reminder that the specific timeline is fuzzy, fics like this aren't set in a specific point in canon, but the major events will happen in canonical order. also, the verse itself will remain gen, but i'm gonna start a collection of fics set in this verse but with various pairings, so if there's anything in particular you wanna see, let me know either here or on tumblr! i'll also be posting another fic on the usual wednesday time, but i finished this and wanted to post it. blanket disclaimer that this is unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.

Jason’s running late and it’s making him anxious and the fact that he’s anxious is pissing him off. He’s not late for patrol or a bust, just to pick up Tim for the movie. At least he’s in one of his safehouses in Gotham and not-quite-home in Newark. He’d come to the city yesterday to check out some info on a mobster trying to make it big in Newark after being driven out of Gotham by Huntress and ended up running patrol with Tim for a bit. It’d gone well except for the part where he’d shot a guy in the hand who almost got in a lucky, could-have-been-fatal shot at Tim.

He doesn’t give a shit what the criminal element think about how Red Hood feels about Batman, but he’ll be damned if they don’t know that Robin is off-limits. The kid had bitched about it the rest of the night, but Jason is immovable on this.

Upon parting, Jason had mentioned he’d be in town for a few days and Tim took that to mean Jason wanted to hang out outside of their nightly business. He had really only said that because the kid was yawning through his lecture and he’d wanted Tim to know he could continue it some other time. But. It would be nice to see Tim be as close to a normal kid as he gets. Besides, Tim’s rich and would most definitely pay for whatever it was they did, which they eventually decided on seeing a movie.

A chance to laugh at Tim and free food, that’s about it. He’s not trying to be anything for this kid other than maybe a friend or an ear to vent to, _definitely_ not vying for a place in his family. Jason needs nobody but himself, thanks.

If he keeps repeating it to himself, maybe it’ll stick. 

Not that he doesn’t want Tim to know he cares about him, though saying it ad nauseum is something he’ll leave to Dick, it’s just that it’s best for both of them if they keep each other at a distance. It’ll help to throw off any suspicion from the Bat. If Bruce gets wind they’re getting too chummy for his comfort, he’ll nip anything they might have in the bud.

Tim’s already had enough people up and leaving on him in his life, or so Jason is learning. He won’t make himself one more.

All this brooding almost makes Jason miss his turn and he shakes his head a little as he hears horns and swears behind him as he cuts across the lanes. It’s very nearly a rookie move, he knows the kid lives next to Bruce, though with how big Wayne Manor is, the concept of “neighbor” is only a technicality.

Jason pulls up to Tim’s house, which is also really fucking huge, only to see a car in the driveway. It must be Tim’s dad’s and no wonder the kid hasn’t called to see why he’s late, he’s been distracted by the adults coming home. That thought’s a little too sad for Jason right now, so instead he thinks about how they’re going to react to him with his leather jacket, torn jeans that he’s had for awhile but are apparently in style nowadays, and motorcycle—the one he really only took because Tim’s been bugging him about getting to drive it sometime. 

Does daddy dearest even know about Tim’s affinity for fast cars?

Does Jack Drake know anything about his kid?

Jason takes a deep breath and allows himself a few minutes to adopt his “bad boy rich kid” persona. It would take Bruce seconds, and probably Tim too, but Jason _hates_ this act and it’s always much more of a challenge to play it, even if it is useful. To the public, he may be Bruce Wayne’s troubled son, but he’s still his son and that goes a long way to getting him places like inside Tim’s house.

Once he’s got a firm grip on it, he rings the bell and smiles politely at the housekeeper. However he feels about Tim’s dad, the Replacement has always spoken highly of Mrs. Mac, so Jason has no problem being nice to her. Even if she does look at Jason skeptically when he asks for Tim. 

“Tim,” Mrs. Mac calls, “Your, uh, friend is here?”

She probably doesn’t mean for it to be a question, but her uncertainty as to what Jason is to Tim carries over into the rest of the sentence. There’s no reply from anywhere in the house, but Jason can faintly hear movement upstairs, so Tim knows he’s here. Jason hears two sets of footsteps coming toward him and he braces himself for Tim’s dad and stepmom.

Dana seems amused by his rich boy look and attitude, though she’s also doing a terrible job of hiding her curiosity.

“Jason Todd,” he says, offering his hand to her. 

She shakes it and he’s impressed by her grip until he remembers that she was a gymnast before turning to physical therapy. It’s firm and solid, but not like she’s trying to intimidate him.

“Dana Winters,” she replies, “And you’re here for Tim?”

“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p.’

He’s torn between being polite to Dana, who has done nothing wrong, and trying to be as obnoxious as possible, for the sake of Jack Drake.

Jack Drake who almost visibly lifts his nose up at Jason, and can’t seem to physically stop himself from wrinkling it. He blatantly looks Jason up and down, clearly contrasting his old t-shirt, leather jacket, torn jeans, and combat boots with Tim’s usual “I’m a real boy!” outfits. It’s obvious Jack has no idea what to make of Jason being in his home and Jason’s enjoying his discomfort a little too much. He wonders what Jack would do if Tim ever brought the littlest Super home.

“Jason Todd, you’re Bruce Wayne’s youngest, right?” Jack asks.

What he really means is, _so you’re the fuckup, right?_ , but rich people never say what they mean, always hunting for a scandal, something they can use to claw their way further up the social ladder. There’s always an ulterior motive, a reason to hold what you know close. Sometimes he wonders if parts of Bruce are more explicable when taking this into account.

Dick told him once that when he smirks a certain way, it makes the urge to punch his face in almost unbearable. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, makes it fond, “you know Brucie, always looking to help youths who lack father figures. What a guy.”

Tim’s never said how his dad felt about all the time he’d spent with Bruce, and the time he’s still spending, but there’s no way a guy like Jack Drake takes kindly to anyone taking his things away. Tim’s no thing, but some of the things he’s gotten out of Tim make it seem like that’s his father’s viewpoint. A somewhat subtle jab is the least of what Jason wants to do to him.

Jack’s face twitches ever so slightly. Jason’s definitely hit a sore spot.

“That’s so nice of him,” Tim’s stepmom is saying, “it must really have changed your life, being adopted by Bruce.”

There’s a sudden lump in Jason’s throat. He gets the urge to go to the mansion next door and beg Bruce to take him back, or to just give him a hug. He swallows it down though, and clears his throat.

He turns away from them and calls up the stairs, “Yo, Timbo, shake a leg, we’re gonna be late!”

Tim comes bounding down the stairs, deliberately making a lot of noise. Jason snorts, amused by the effort Tim puts into hiding any trace of Robin from his parents.

“Dad, Dana. I see you guys’ve met Jason,” he says.

Like the little sneak hasn’t been listening this whole time.

Jason shoots them his smarmiest grin and says, “Yeah, just been getting to know the folks.”

Jack’s nose wrinkles, just slightly, but Dana’s looking at him with something like sympathy. Fuck. He’ll have to figure out how to use that to his advantage later.

Tim tugs at his sleeve, “Well, c’mon then, you’re the one yelling at me for making us late. I’ll see you later, Dad, Dana.”

He drags Jason to the door and Jason throws, “See ya around, Pops!” over his shoulder.

They’re out the door and headed toward Jason’s bike, but not before Jason hears, “I guess some things _do_ make it out of Crime Alley after all,” as the door slams behind them.

Tim doesn’t appear to hear it, so Jason covers up his wince and hands Tim his helmet before speeding off toward the city, leaving both of their homes behind.

After the movie, they grab ice cream and meander through the city, being careful not to seem like targets for pickpockets. This is exactly what Jason had wanted, he gets to be a normal person for once, while Tim gets to be as he really is—which is to say, not normal at all. They’re talking about how gorgeous the scenery in Lord of the Rings was when Tim goes abruptly quiet. 

“He does that,” Babs had told him once, after Tim had done that while they were discussing a case, “it means he’s thinking about something and needs time to figure out how to put it into words. Bruce sort of does the same thing, as you’ll recall.”

Jason had, so he gives Tim time to sort it out, though he does snag a spoonful of Tim’s ice cream while he waits. He’s rewarded when Tim speaks a few minutes later.

“I-I’m sorry. About what my dad said, earlier.”

Jason’s not sure if the stammer is real, or if Tim’s trying to make this whole conversation easier. Either way, he’s not looking at Jason, which is good because Jason flushes with embarrassment. Stammer or not, nothing’s gonna make this less awkward or humiliating.

“Don’t apologize, Timbo, he’s right,” he’s hoping the nickname gets him a scowl and a change of subject, but Tim huffs in frustration.

“That’s not the point. He-he he doesn’t,” Tim stops, takes a breath, “he wasn’t even born in Gotham. He doesn’t get to say shit like that.”

It’s kind of dumb, considering the man has at least lived here longer than Tim’s been alive, but. It makes perfect sense to Jason. Jack Drake lives in a mansion in the suburbs of Gotham, far from the city proper, and—from what he’s parsed from Alfred and Babs—was never really here in the first place. He doesn’t know the city, doesn’t bleed it, and he has no place passing judgement like he does.

This whole argument should be hypocritical, coming from Tim _Drake_ , and yet it’s not. Jason’s known Tim for about a year now, long enough to get the full story of how he became Robin out of him. Tim most likely knows these streets better than anyone, save Batman. He may not have been born in the dark heart of Gotham like Jason was, but running around the streets since age nine makes him worthy in Jason’s book. After Jason himself, Tim’s probably more Gotham than any of them.

Jason’s a brown kid from the worst area in Gotham, he knows what that means to people like Jack Drake, what it should mean to Tim. In another world, maybe it does. But Tim is _here_ , smiling at him and giving up his weekend to hang out with his predecessor-slash-somewhat reluctant mentor, going to see fantasy movies and talking about the ridiculous things their friends have done recently. Tim wants to spend time with him, and right now that’s good enough for Jason.

It had nearly killed him, leaving Gotham, leaving the only home he’d ever known, but in hindsight, Jason’s glad he did. It’s given him a new perspective, a new way to look at things. Like Tim. Jason’s just starting to realize that he’ll never figure this kid out. He’s like Bruce in that way. Jason feels a rush of fondness for the Replacement, one he’s learning to just accept as something that happens now.

“No,” Jason answers, “he doesn’t. But don’t go picking fights with your old man ‘cause of me, okay?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Like I would.”

He slings an arm around Tim and pulls the kid in for a noogie. Tim protests loudly, then gets even by stealing the rest of Jason’s ice cream and shoving the rest of it in his mouth in one large spoonful. The kid’ll have one hell of a case of brain freeze in a couple seconds, but for now Jason drinks in the triumphant sound of his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm bisexualtimothydrake on tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
